The Advocate
by Fanty
Summary: An unlikely crossover between the world of the Labyrinth and the world of the Phantom of the Opera FINISHED Aug 2005
1. The Masked Ball

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, (except for some of the goblins) you know it, and I know it. Don't sue me!

Author's note: This story takes place in Erik's time period. The whole Labyrinth plotline hasn't even happened yet. For our purposes, Jareth, (being the Goblin king and all) has an extraordinary long life. However this story is equally about both characters, and how they influenced each other. (i.e. how Jareth influenced Erik's relationship with Christine and how Jareth's actions here would influence his relationship with Sarah later on) Hope you enjoy!

The Advocate

Chapter 1

Jareth was bored. Terribly bored. Inescapably bored. He stood up from his chair and searched around his castle for some type of amusement. But alas, there was none to be found. No one had visited the Labyrinth for months and crossing over to the outside world was getting increasingly more dangerous. Last time he'd done it a whole pack of humans hunted him down and called him-what was it again? Ah, yes, warlock. It seemed that the Americas were a dangerous place to go if you practiced any type of magic. Well, he bemused, it was better to live dangerously than to just sit here bored out of his mind.

"Alisander," Jareth called "Come here." Soon a small portly figure came hopping along with rubbery green skin and a large beak-like nose. He also had a pair of pinkish green wings that drooped behind him, heavy with non-use.

"Yes, Master?" The little goblin inquired.

"Go into the outside world, and let me know if there is any mischief to be made. This castle grows terribly dull and I require amusement." Jareth paused. "Look over in Europe, I definitely don't want to visit the Americas again anytime soon." Jareth watched as the little goblin bowed his head and dissolved into a smoky green mist. He should be back within the hour. It did not take his minions long to traverse the human world, and to find out where to cause the most trouble. Jareth sat down in his chair and waited, playing with some crystal balls while he lingered. About a half-hour later, Alisander returned.

"I have done as you asked and I return to you with a promising prospect". Jareth nodded, indicating he should go on. "In the city of Paris there is to be a masked ball at an Opera house, where some strange events have occurred. This opera house is supposedly haunted by a phantom that brought down an entire chandelier as if by magic. There are some who speculate that tonight he may return."

"Ah," Jareth sighed. It didn't sound too interesting, but he did like going to parties, and crashing them if he could. And wearing a mask could be an added plus. "Thank you Alisander, you shall be well rewarded" Jareth said as he headed for his lair, "see to all the arrangements for my travel, I shall be ready to leave within the next quarter of an hour." As Jareth made his way through the corridors of his castle he spotted a clock. It read that the time was 13:36. So then what time was it in Paris? He didn't want to arrive early. "Gingon," he called "come to me". Gingon was the castles' resident expert on human affairs. Gingon soon appeared at Jareth's side. He was a little purple goblin with big pointy ears and webbed feet.

"Yes, Master?"

"Tell me, if it is 13:36 here, what time is it in the human city of Paris?" Gingon took out a very large notebook and looked at some sort of table while muttering to himself. Jareth flashed him an impatient look.

"J-Just another moment sir it'll be just another moment." The pace of his muttering increased as he found the correct slot on the table. "If it is 13:36 here then it is precisely 9:46 in the human city of Paris."

"Hmmm…9:46…and what time do people normally attend parties?"

Gingon thought for a moment "I-I would have to s-say p-perhaps around n-nine." Gingon looked up at Jareth for the first time since he summoned him, and then looked right back down "A-Although there really is no set time" Jareth waved him away

"That will be all Gingon." The little purple creature scuttled away. Jareth continued to his room and once their decided on his attire for the night. He was ever so fond of the tight riding wear that he wore around the castle, but this seemed a little too much of a formal occasion for that. He decided on a ruffled white shirt with a sparkling black coat with matching pants. He needed to attract attention, but also to blend in. However contradictory the idea, it was absolutely essential in the human world. He then found a goblins-head mask and decided it was time to go. "Alisander," he called. The little green goblin produced himself at Jareth's feet. "Are my travel accommodations made?"

"Yes sir"

"Then let me be gone" Jareth disappeared in a puff of grey smoke and reappeared in the back of a carriage just pulling up to the Paris Opera house.

"Here you are sir". Jareth paid the driver with some money that Alisander had left for that purpose in the back of the carriage. As soon as Jareth stepped out, he was overcome with the scent of human emotion. Alisander had been right; something was going to happen here. He smelled a dangerous cocktail of excitement, fear, and even a little love. As Jareth stepped inside, he was immediately swept up in the dancing and singing that was taking place. A woman in a black dress with a cat-like mask quickly scooped him up and they were suddenly reeling around the floor to an infectious tune to which everyone knew the words.

"_Masquera-ade, Every face a different shade"_

He looked around for the source of the music, but was being spun so fast that he could hardly tell where he was anymore. He gracefully bowed out of the dance while the women dancing changed partners. He went up some stairs to get a better view of the spectacle. However in the midst of all the singing and dancing all of the light suddenly died away. Jareth detected a new presence in the room. A presence that smelled of death, anger, jealousy, and love. Oh this was going to be good. Suddenly a single light shone on a man dressed in a red suit with a death's head for a mask. The man drew forward and nearly everyone in the room took a step back. This must have been the elusive phantom that Alisander had told him about.

"_Why so silent good messieurs? Did you think that I had left you for good?"_

This phantom seemed to be taunting the people in attendance with his sing-song voice. And then someone caught his eye. A woman, who looked very young. He approached her slowly, and then noticed an engagement ring hung loosely on a chain around her neck. He then ripped it off and disappeared into a ball of flame. Oh, this is too good Jareth thought. The woman crumpled down onto the floor where a man with brown hair helped her up. He shared a few words with her and then sought out an older woman. The pair disappeared together and most of the people who had been enjoying themselves had all gone. The woman with the brown hair regained her strength and left as well. It seemed he was alone in this giant room where you could still feel the terror of the party guests upon seeing this 'phantom'. "Alisander," Jareth called. The green creature appeared before him. "There was a man who stood right over near those stairs," Jareth pointed. "He disappeared as if by magic. I want to be where he is immediately".

Jareth found himself almost instantly standing knee-high in an underground river. He could hear that same sing-song voice now filled with rage. He stepped out of the river so that he could get a better look at his surroundings. The phantom was knocking over candelabras and screaming to himself. "Why Christine? Why? What have I not given to you, what more do you WANT?" he roared. He tore off his mask and looked in the mirror. His face would truly be a horrible thing to behold if Jareth wasn't accustomed to being around goblins. His flesh looked as if it had been seared on one side and his lips turned upwards in a grotesque-looking immobile snarl. The phantom dropped to his knees and wept. Jareth thought this the perfect time to intervene.


	2. Two Strangers

Chapter 2

There was someone in his lair. "Who dares to enter the lair of the Phantom of the Opera?" He turned around coolly. He considered putting his mask back on, but this trespasser would not live to tell others what he had seen. "Don't you know that all those who have gazed upon this face have not lived to see the light of another day?" The stranger seemed unfazed. This surprised the Phantom because most would faint at the sight of his face. He decided not to think about it and he grabbed his lasso. As he threw it across the room, the blonde stranger put up his hand and laid his fingers on his temple. He obviously knew what he was doing. But how?

"Before you try to kill me," the stranger said, lifting the lasso off of his head, "allow me to introduce myself. My name is Jareth, and I have come here to help you."

"I need help from no one," the phantom grumbled. "Leave now and I will spare your life"

"I don't think you understand," Jareth said. "I've come to help you with your little lady friend." The phantom looked up. Jareth read his mind. "With _Christine_. You want her don't you." The phantom rose to his feet. Jareth continued, "I can see it in every fiber of your being. You want her so bad you can't even see straight." At this the Phantom took a flying swipe at Jareth with an unused sword. He would use any weapon he could find to destroy this man. He mentioned Christine, _Christine!_ Didn't he know that she belonged to him? As he tried to strike, Jareth just mildly avoided him. The Phantom had never encountered someone like him. Normally taunting the phantom meant death for any mortal. Perhaps he was no mere mortal.

"What manner of man are you?" The Phantom asked breathlessly.

"None you need concern yourself with." Jareth flashed a smile "All that you need to worry about is that I'm here to help you. Now, I've had the courtesy to tell you my name, now why don't you tell me yours."

"No one can know my name" The phantom retrieved his lasso, which was still at the bottom of Jareth's feet. "I am the Phantom, demon, murederer…"

"Oh just cut it out!" Jareth fumed. "I know you want me to be scared of you, just like everyone else in this city seems to be but it just doesn't work. I've avoided your assassination attempts easily, and will continue to do so, so if we could just carry on like gentlemen it would make this go a lot smoother for both of us." Jareth paused, "and for _Christine_."

"Stop saying that name!" the Phantom roared. He glared into Jareth's eyes with an intensity that he had rarely encountered. But then something happened that Jareth did not expect. The Phantom's face suddenly grew soft. "Please," he murmured, " I can't listen to it anymore". Jareth's black heart almost shattered.

"Then I shall make you a deal." Jareth tried to lock his eyes with the Phantom, but his head was down, he noticed that he was donning a white half-mask. "You tell me your name, and I won't say Chris-, I mean her, name anymore, or unless you permit me to."

The Phantom stood back up. He seemed a different creature with his mask on. A rational creature, but a creature nonetheless.

"I am Erik" He looked down, almost ashamed at uttering his name. How very peculiar, Jareth thought, that one should be so immersed in other's perception of themselves, that they actually become ashamed of who they really are. Erik seemed so caught up in the fact that people saw him as 'the Phantom' that it seemed he didn't really know how to be himself anymore. Jareth pushed the thought away, and decided to go on, before he lost Erik's interest.

"Very good. Now tell me about your relationship with Chris-, I mean, the girl, I shall need to know everything if I am to advise you" Jareth waited while the Phantom paced around the room.

"Very well," Erik sat down, very near to figurine that looked like a monkey, and began his story.


	3. Jareth

Chapter 3

Jareth stood up from his sitting position. Erik's story was definitely not for the faint of heart. He couldn't recall the last time he had actually felt something. But being in the presence of this man, this, creature of darkness, he suddenly felt pity shine in the darkest corner of his heart.

"No one can help me, not even you" Erik said. "I am a beast, and she deserves to be happy". He looked around his lair wistfully.

Jareth turned around and met Erik's gaze "How can you say that? I saw how angry you were, how she had wronged you! You must take what is yours!" With that said, Jareth willed himself back to the goblin realm. He paced around his room. How was it that Erik suddenly had a change of heart. He was certain that Erik wanted Christine, so why would he just concede her to someone else? Jareth had to make this right.

"Alisander!" He cried out. "Alisander, come forth!" He waited. An overly tired green goblin appeared before him, his eyes heavy with fatigue.

"Yes, Master," He said wearily

"Oh come now Alisander," Jareth said impatiently. "You haven't worked for months, you can't handle a little work" The goblin nodded. Jareth sighed "Very well, you can go to bed, but not after I give you these last two assignments. I want you to visit the Opera house where I spent my evening. There is a girl living there by the name of Christine Daaé. Read her thoughts and decipher where she will be tomorrow morning. I expect you back within the hour Then we will discuss my transportation. That will be all" The goblin sighed, then disappeared into a weak puff of smoke.

"Lazy bastard," Jareth muttered. He anxiously awaited Alisander's return. Hopefully she would be somewhere where he could intervene on Erik's behalf. About three quarters of an hour later Alisander returned. "What have you found?" Jareth inquired.

"I have read her thoughts and this is what I found. Apparently, she is going to visit the grave of her father. It seems that before he died he promised to send her an apparition of music-"

"An _Angel _of Music?" Jareth corrected. He recalled part of Erik's story where he mentioned how Christine had referred to him as the Angel of Music. She thought he was a ghost sent by her father to teach her music. Jareth shot Alisander a frustrated look. How could he have missed such a crucial detail? Hopefully he hadn't been so careless with the rest of the report. Jareth waved his hand impatiently, urging him to go on.

"So it appears that he promised to send her this _Angel _and she thought she had found it but she was deceived. She wanted to visit his grave tomorrow morning to ask him where she might find this Angel." Alisander paused. "That's all I know."

Jareth put his hand to his temple and thought for a moment. Perhaps there was something to be made of this situation. Perhaps if Christine still believed that her father was going to send her this 'Angel' then Erik still had a chance.

Jareth looked up at his slightly disgruntled goblin companion. He wasn't used to caring about how they felt, but he couldn't help feeling a twinge of pity for the poor creature. He had worked hard tonight. "Alright Alisander, you have served me well. I will not require transportation tomorrow morning, so you can go and get your rest." The little goblin looked up at his master with a surprised look. He wasn't sure if Jareth was angry or if he was actually showing him some kindness. Jareth met his surprised gaze and continued, "But in the morning there will be a letter on my door with some hand written instructions that I will want you to deliver to a friend of mine at around seven in the morning, Paris time." Alisander looked back down. "You are dismissed, and um…good night".

Alisander couldn't help but smile. He was one of the oldest goblins in the Goblin City, and he had known Jareth for a very long time. He was happy to see his master amused, if only for a little while. Things got pretty tense in the Goblin City when the master was in need of amusement.

Jareth sat down at his study. It had been ages since he had written a proper letter. But he figured it would be the best method of communication at this point, especially since the heart of this plot did not involve him. He finished about a half-hour later and rested it on his desk. He grabbed another sheet of paper and wrote Alisander's instructions on how to deliver it to Erik. He decided it best that Alisander hand-deliver it. Although he was sure Erik had never seen a goblin before, he decided that they very well could be an integral part of their cooperation, and he may have to get used to it. With that he taped both notes to his door and retired for the night


	4. An exchange of Information

He was going to kill him. In a weak moment he had taken advantage of his position and now he regretted it. He paced around his lair, looking at the place where the tall blonde stranger had stood. Jareth, he had said his name was. What an awkward manner of man. To know so much, without even inquiring, he had to be some type of sorcerer. Perhaps that's why Erik couldn't kill him right away and trusted him too soon. But his offer was lucrative. Perhaps this man could offer him the chance he so needed to win Christine back. Erik looked toward a model he had made in the shape of Christine. The model was wearing a wedding dress. Erik knew then that he would make a pact with the devil just to have her with him. To have her die with him. He looked at the model wistfully. Somewhere, in the secret region of his heart he knew he didn't deserve her. But his ego fought back wildly, and told him that nonetheless he would have her. Erik gave a low growl and then retired. He wondered when he would be seeing this man again. Then he fell asleep.

Alisander gently padded through the dark and musky lair that he presumed to belong to Jareth's new acquaintance. He noted how similar it looked to Jareth's wing of the Goblin Castle. Perhaps these two had more in common than Jareth was willing to admit. Alisander thought briefly about opening the letter he carried, but pushed the thought away quickly. He was Jareth's most trusted goblin, and he would like to keep it that way. As he reached his destination, he noticed a figure sleeping lightly. This must be the addressee, he thought. He peered closer, and saw the man's truly ghastly face. Alisander couldn't help wondering what in the world Jareth and this man had to do with each other. He left the letter on a chest very near to where the man was sleeping and vanished right as the man began to stir.

Erik awoke to a cloud of smoke. Someone had been in his lair, and he hadn't even detected them! How foolish he had been, trusting this man, Jareth. Now his world seemed all out of whack. He knew the smoke that now filled his lungs had to be part of his mischief. He looked over at the time. It was nearly 5 in the morning. It was time to wake up anyway. He looked around and then he noticed it. A letter, very neatly sealed with a goblin's head. He opened the letter and looked with intent at its contents.

_Dearest Erik,_

_My most sincere apologies for my abrupt departure, but I had the feeling that I could not have controlled my temper much more. One thing I have learned during my long life is that, if you want something, you must take it, or give it up forever. _

_But enough with the formalities. There is some information that I have gathered which will be of interest to you. The woman you seek is going to visit the grave of her father this very morning in search of the 'Angel of Music'. An interception on your behalf may prove fruitful. I will not intercept, as this is your affair, but I will see you this evening. _

_Yours,_

_Jareth_

The note left Erik with many questions. But he was so excited about the prospect of being able to intercept Christine this morning that he did not bother to consider them. He did not wonder what Jareth meant by 'long life' since his looks demonstrated that he could not be a man of more than thirty. He did not even ponder how or why Jareth would find him this evening. He went out into the snowy morning with a restored sense of hope, and Jareth was the last thing on his mind.


	5. The Graveyard

Chapter 5

"Her father promised her," Christine mumbled to herself, "Her father promised her." She stared blankly at the graveyard before her. She couldn't believe the events that had befallen her in the past few days. It had been almost like a dream. A glorious dream in which a thing like an "Angel of Music" was real and could sing her to sleep. But there was no such thing as an Angel of Music was there? She had been deceived. But Christine couldn't help but think in some dark corner of her mind that somehow, there was an Angel of Music that would come to her. Her father had given her his dying word. Why would he lie?

As Christine walked through the graveyard, she remembered her father. Full memories of Father and her making music together, him on the violin, and her with her then-untrained voice. Christine had always loved those times together. Her father had been her inspiration and her best friend and her reason for living. Until he died. It had been the most devastating blow she had ever received. And it all went so fast, It seemed one day he came down with a cold, and then the next day, he was dead. Christine remembered and let a single teardrop roll down her face. It had been nearly six years, and yet the pain was still as fresh as if it had happened just yesterday.

She made her way in the gently falling snow, sometimes stopping to admire the serene angel statues that littered the gravesite. When she finally made her way to the Daae tomb, tears were streaming down her face, and her senses were so numb that she could barely feel the gentle snowflakes falling across her face. She knelt down, and began to say a prayer, when all of a sudden, a beautiful sound assaulted her ears.

_Wandering child, so lost, so helpless yearning for my guidance_

Daddy! Christine couldn't believe her ears, her father's spirit was right here! She rocked back and forth, savoring the sound of her father's voice. Then cruel reality set in. Hadn't this happened before? Christine called out to the voice.

_Angel or Father? Friend or Phantom? Who is it there staring?_

The voice chided her for her disbelief, and soon Christine found herself completely immersed in the sound of the voice. She found herself ascending the stairs of the tomb toward a warm light. The gates were opening and then all of a sudden Christine heard a familiar voice.

"Christine, whatever you believe, this man, this thing, is not your father!"

It was Raoul!

Oh this was too good! Jareth thought. What an opportune moment for the young viscount to intercede. Of course Jareth knew that he would arrive. When he returned to the human realm this morning, after making sure Christine was off to the graveyard, he had found the young viscount sleeping in a chair outside the opera house dormitory where she stayed. He thought for sure that Christine's stirring would wake him, and incite him to follow her, but alas he was a heavy sleeper. Jareth had to use his goblin's voice just to wake him up enough so he could read the note that Jareth had let inconspicuously fall from the rafters.

_Christine has gone to the Daae Tomb_

_The phantom is there_

_Make no mention of this note_

_J._

Jareth knew that he had led Erik to believe that he was on his side, and for the most part, he was. Erik had to be ready to defend what was his. And as he watched the young viscount engage an enraged phantom, he knew that it was a lesson he would have to learn. He must learn to fight for what is his, or concede. Jareth had hoped for a fight, a concession would be just too boring. Jareth watched as Raoul pinned Erik in the swordfight. Jareth saw the look of death in Raoul's eyes, and was nearly sure that his friend was done for. He sighed. But then a cry for mercy came from Christine. Did she still harbor true feelings for a man who was so manipulative? A man who pretended to be her father? A man who tried to kill her lover? Jareth had thought previously that Erik had only wanted her because she didn't want him. But if she had feelings for him…

Obviously the fight for Christine was far from other.


	6. Heart Melody

Heart Melody

Erik looked around his lair. He couldn't believe he had let that woman, no that girl! He was so furious! His moment of triumph, his chance to finally win back Christine, and that empty-headed viscount had to come and ruin it. He just couldn't believe his luck.

"Or was it fate?" a menacing voice said.

"Are you telling me that you had a hand in this?" Erik turned around coolly. Jareth had expected more emotion from him at this point, but he was unsurprised. This damnable man was getting increasingly harder to predict.

"Well I must tell you that things did not go according to my plan, I ever so cordially stage for you and Christ- her to have your moment together and be just in time to finish off the competition." The Phantom glared at Jareth. "Well I thought you'd finish off the competition, but it seems that this Raoul chapper is more of a competition than you had originally anticipated. He obviously has the affections of your ladyfriend, not to mention he's a better swordsman, and he _definetly_ has you beat in the looks depar- "

"Cease this mockery at once!" The phantom boomed. He threw several objects in Jareth's general direction. "Why do you torment me like this? Is this what you want? To see the caged monster become enraged?" He paced quickly around the floor. "Yes I want to rip the little whelp's heart out, yes I want to claim Christine for my own and have her say that she loves me and no one else, and yes, I want her to forget all about this cursed face and become my wife! Do you hear me? My living wife!" The phantom paused to catch his breath. He saw a small little smirk come across Jareth's face. He felt his rage boil over. "You! What is it that you want from me? My soul? It's long gone! Do you know how many people I've murdered in cold blood? Do you know the monster that is Erik?" He bared his face. "Know me and know that I know no mercy!"

Jareth's smirk turned into a full faced smile that exploded into laughter. "Oh Erik, I remember this all too well. Remember, we've done this before? You get all angry and throw your lasso at me. But this is not why I'm here. Now that I've let you have your release, of sorts, allow me to council you one last time."

"So then, you'll leave me be after this?" Erik inquired, still panting from the heat of his pent-up rage.

"I expect so, it seems time is running out for you and the young lady, I know that on the night of the premier of your opera, the managers are planning to rid themselves of you once and for all, by using the mademoiselle as bait."

"You think I didn't know this? Those bumbling managers have tried to get rid of me before, it is no concern of mine anymore."

"Yes, but this time, it is the young viscount orchestrating their moves. He wants you gone, Erik, and I don't think your young ladyfriend is objecting too much." Jareth paused. He had hoped to capture some more of that fire that he had seen before, but the as phantom of the opera turned to face him, he noticed something that he hadn't seen before. The man was dying. He had smelt death on him before, but he thought that that was just a byproduct of his murderous ways. But this time…it was different.

"It is not in my hands anymore." Erik said. "I would appreciate it if you left me now." Erik turned his back on Jareth and sat at his organ and began to play a somber tune. The slow silky melody washed over Jareth and he had to sit down. He let the music wash over him like a tide washing over a sandbar. For a moment he forgot who he was, where he lived, and even his devious ways. There was just him, and this melody. Jareth closed his eyes and all of a sudden he was a witness to a host of emotions. He could translate guilt, anger, and frustration, and he could feel it all the more with every keystroke the phantom took. Soon the grey mist took him and he found himself back in the Goblin's castle. In silence. Silence. And as sleep finally took hold of the Goblin King, he tried to recall the melody one last time. But he couldn't hear it anymore. And now he knew that what he had heard was the beat of Erik's heart. A heart that would beat for only a short time more.

Jareth knew what he had to do.


	7. Thoughts

Thoughts

Jareth was gone. Finally. Erik retired to his room. He barely ever slept, but it seemed these days it was becoming more of a necessity. He lay down in his bed and looked up at the ceiling. He looked up at the stars that he had painted. He had copied them from a book he had read about astronomy. He had made such a home here. He had thought that he had everything he needed to carry out his meaningless existence. But he realized, all too late, that he didn't want his existence to be meaningless. He wanted to mean something to someone. Oh, but cruel fate, that he should realize this all too late. He wondered if he still had time to accomplish his goals. Well, his opera was being performed, at least that was something.

He picked out Ursa Major on his ceiling, and thought to himself about the constellation. It was supposed to resemble a giant bear. Something that was capable of great harm, but something that was also able to offer great protection, if it was only asked. If someone would only ask _him,_ he thought. If Christine would only just reach up her hands and say, "Love me, teach me, be my angel!" That's all Erik wanted to hear. But he knew that the time for love had passed. He thought about what Jareth had said. If he wanted something, he had to take it, by any means necessary. He rolled over on his right side, removed his mask and went to sleep.

-------

When Jareth returned to his castle he called Alisander to his side immediately. He asked the goblin what he thought about his work in the human world.

"What do you mean master?" he asked.

"I said it plain and clear Alisander, do you think I should stop interfereing in the affairs of humans? This whole experience has opened my eyes to a lot of things I don't like about myself. Tell me, dammit! You know I have always looked to you for advice!"

"Y-You have?" Alisander was speechless. He bowed his head in submission, "B-but you are the master, t-the king of the goblins. You are the on-"

"I know who the hell I am!" Jareth was fuming "Why can't I just get a damn answer out of you? Is that so hard?" He glared at the trembling Alisander. This creature did not deserve his rage. His face softened and he took a breath. "I'm sorry Alisander, I'll talk to you in the morning." He waved him away and retired to his bedroom. He paced around wondering what was coming over him. In all the hundreds of years that he had used the human world as his playground, he had never felt even the tiniest singe of guilt. He had done unspeakable things, now that he thought about it. It seemed as is the world was falling down around him, and the world had a few choice words to say upon parting. He decided to commit himself to an oath right then and there. He would strive only to help humans. To encourage them, grant their wishes, and generally help them in their hours of need. He sat up in his chair. He was pleased with his thoughts. And no more switching sides. He would help to resolve this matter for the love of Christine. But whom would he help?

-------

Richard Firmin looked over the notes on his desk. Was he really going to do this? Was he going to try and take down this creature that had haunted the Opera Populaire for so long? Raoul De Changny seemed pretty confident that the staging of _Don Juan Triumphant_ next week would bring the creature out of hiding, and that combined with Christine performing as the lead would make the perfect opportunity to get rid of the pest once and for all. Raoul had said that performing the compilation of his life's work with the woman of his dreams would be an offer that he couldn't bear to refuse. But Richard wasn't so sure. He had seen for himself what a resourceful man this 'phantom' was. He knew that this may be _his_ chance to claim that which he truly wanted. Richard poured himself another glass of brandy. This certainly was a large gamble, he thought.

"Hopefully the chips are in our favor"

_Author's note: First of all, Thank you to all my readers! Secondly, Please Please PLEASE review! I would really like some feedback on what you guys think of these last few chapters. If you think I'm heading in the right direction, say so! If you think I'm way off pleeease tell me! I haven't gotten feedback since chapter 4, so I'm completely in the dark here. Thanks again for reading._

_Fanty _


	8. Jareth's Final Descision

Christine sat alone in her dressing room. She had donned her costume and was by all accounts ready to perform. But something was wrong. Tonight she would betray one of the men she loved. She felt the same surge of emotion each time she thought about either one of them. Her heart lept with joy when she thought of spending time with Raoul, taking those long strolls in the park, and going for rides in taxis. It would be all too easy to escape tonight with Raoul, he had offered to take her away from it all. Lord knows she wanted to take him up on his offer! But then there was Erik. How cruel his life had been to him already. She felt nauseous just thinking that the night he would finally see his greatest work performed; he would also meet his demise. How she wanted to follow that all-too familiar corridor behind her mirror, and warn him. Tell him of her lovers plot to get rid of him. But she didn't want him to kill Raoul, and she knew that to inform him would mean a death sentence for her fiancée. She slammed her head on her make up stand. If only she could just go unconscious, and not have to be part of this horrifying night. She knew what she had to do, she couldn't refuse, but she couldn't help but think:

"_What horrors wait for me? In this, the Phantom's Opera"_

She slammed her head back on the stand. Oh if only she had the courage, she thought, she would just throw herself down some stairs, and pray not to die. She wept in silence. She heard the door open. She swallowed her breath, stood up, and faced the mirror.

"Go away Madame Giry, I am nearly ready, I will be done shortly, I just need to finish dressing."

"I am not interested in the status of your dress, Mademoiselle." A light male voice said. Christine turned around sharply

"W-Who?" She looked at the tall blonde stranger. Her face went completely red " Get out of my dressing room! Who do you think you are? How in the world did you get back here? How did you get past Madame Giry?" She slowed for lack of breath. The stranger didn't move. He obviously wasn't here to attack her, he would have made his move already. And he didn't act like an overzealous fan, so why _was_ he here?

Jareth introduced himself, "My name is Jareth, Mademoiselle, and I am here to help you with this most precarious predicament that you have found yourself in." Christine started to mouth a word in protest, but Jareth quickly silenced her. " I know that tonight, the Viscount de Chagny has arranged that your friend, the 'phantom of the opera' be captured and taken care of by the authorities." Christine nodded silently. "However I also know that tonight, during the second act of _Don Juan Triumphant_, the Opera Ghost intends to kidnap you right in front of everyone. I am here to warn you. Be wary while you're onstage, for I know not the manner in which you will be taken, only that the phantom is most surely relying on the element of surprise" Christine sat back down in front of her make-up stand. She put her head in her hands and started crying again. Jareth was severely annoyed. As much as he had committed himself to helping humans, he definetly didn't want to put up with all this blubbering nonsense. He let out a sigh, and supposed if he was to start getting used of it, now was the time. He knelt down in front of Christine's weeping silhouette. "It'll be alright Christine," Jareth said through invisibly clenched teeth. She looked up at him softly, her eyes full of those god-forsaken wet blobs. Jareth looked away. "Whatever happens, know that everything will be fine. Neither of those two men would ever see you come to harm." He stood up and moved toward the door of the dressing room. "And know this Christine; none of this is your fault". She gazed up at him one last time. He made a bow and then opened the door to leave the room.

"Thank you…." She called softly.

"Don't mention it." Jareth said. "And good luck tonight, I have a feeling many people will remember this performance." With that he left the room.

He had done all he could, now the only thing left to do was sit and watch. As he made his way back through the theatre to his private box, he made a silent prayer that everything would turn out well. After tonight, he would not meddle in the affairs of humans unnecessarily. He would return to his kingdom, and wait for a human who needed his special expertise. He hoped eventually he would be able to do something great for someone. He looked at the stage. The lights were slowly dimming. Soon he heard the orchestra begin to play.

Yes, he thought to himself, tonight would be a memorable night in the lives of these humans, but he would not be a part of it. He would not intervene, or cause mischief, and that was the way it should have been all along. That's the way it would be from now on. He would leave the affairs of humans to the humans, and only assist them in the most neutral way possible.

The curtain went up. The show began.

The End

_Author's note: I've decided to end the story here because most of us know what happens next. But keep your eyes out, I may be writing an epilogue if there is any demand for it. Hope you enjoyed 'The Advocate'. Next, I'm thinking of writing an InuYasha/Danny Phantom crossover. It would deal with the similarities between the two characters (the most important being the half-ghost/ half-demon dynamic).Tell me what you think! Let me know any suggestions for where you think this next story should go. (i.e. how they meet, interact, etc.) You can contact me by leaving a review or sending me an email! Thanks again for _


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